


glittering

by adamantine



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Drunk Keith (Voltron), M/M, season 8 can go fuck itself obviously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 15:37:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18285224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adamantine/pseuds/adamantine
Summary: Krolia, Shiro, and Keith go out drinking to celebrate Keith’s promotion with the Blades.





	glittering

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO so apparently the anniversary of the first fic I ever wrote for Voltron is almost upon us? It was a simple Krolia POV fic so I wrote this fic in honor of that.

“You,” Keith loudly whispers, “have really nice tits. Has anyone ever told you that?” Keith pokes at one of Shiro’s nice tits and giggles.

“Keith,” Shiro whines, “we have company.” His face is slowly but surely working its way up to a fire engine red.

“So bouncy,” Keith says, no longer whispering.

Shiro sends a furtive glance in Krolia’s direction, clearly hoping she hasn’t yet noticed her son playing with his chest in the dark lighting of the pub. She meets his eyes and quirks her lips, crushing his hopes. It’s quite satisfying to watch him wither under her gaze.

Refusing to contain his appreciation to his hands, Keith starts rubbing his face on Shiro’s chest like an animal marking its territory.

“Keith,” Shiro warns again, doing nothing to physically stop her son from pawing at him in public.

Krolia bites back her laughter and takes another sip of the Galran rice wine she and Keith have been drinking to celebrate his promotion. The rice wine isn’t strong but Keith has no tolerance for it. He’s halfway drunk after his first shot and completely inebriated by his second. His antics would be less amusing if Shiro didn’t make the wise decision to forgo any aliens alcohols and drink an Earth beer instead. It does little to affect his sobriety, meaning she gets to watch as her son makes a fool of himself and doesn’t have to worry it will get out of hand.

The small, dim pub is a favorite of hers. There’s a healthy mix of Galra, human, and other alien patrons. Their blended group isn’t unusual. That makes her happy. It’s her dreams for Keith realized—a world where both parts of him are accepted.

“Sheewoooooo,” Keith drags out his name with a terrible whine, slurring the sounds of it. “Sheewo, please.” He fiddles with Shiro’s shirt, clearly troubled by the concept of buttons, and traps one of Shiro’s large thighs between his legs. The thigh sits there helplessly as Keith starts a slow, purposeful grind; his hands rip Shiro’s shirt open and sends a pair of buttons flying. Sobriety doesn’t help Shiro resist Keith.

Krolia makes an executive decision. “It’s probably time we call it a night,” she announces.

Shiro startles. Clearly, at some point, he forgot she was there. She guesses it was the moment her son’s mischievous fingers first dipped into his shirt.

“Yes, ma’am.” Krolia raises an eyebrow; Shiro winces. “I mean—yes, Krolia.” He pries himself free from Keith’s drunken groping and ignores the needy anger their separation provokes.

“Sheewo, how could ya?” Keith’s voice takes on a familiar, once cherished, accent. “I’m yer husband.”

“My very drunk husband that has forgotten we’re out with his mom,” he admonishes.

Keith blinks slowly takes in his surroundings. “Hmm. Sheewo, I think this place is a bar. Did ya get me drunk?”

“Stay here.” Shiro rests his prosthetic hand on the small of Keith’s back, securing him in place, and goes to pay their tab.

Keith continues to blink; his sclera goes from yellow to white to yellow again. He notices Krolia sitting across from him. “Hi, mom.” Keith gives her a little wave and giggles. It’s easy to understand why Shiro is weak to his charm.

“Did you like rice wine?” She asks the question in Galran.

“It’s really sweet,” he answers her in their language, the words rolling off of his tongue with her accent this time, “but that’s not a bad thing.”

“Some brands aren’t as sweet, and some are even sweeter. Careful though, we take our rice wine seriously. Simply stating your favorite brand is seen as a declaration of war to some Galra.” Figuring out someone’s favorite brand was like hitting the jackpot as a spy. Many times in her career she’s pretended to love a particular brand to pry information out of someone, drinking with them until they were happy to spill classified information.

Keith leans back in his chair and squishes Shiro’s hand. He sits up, alarmed, and switches back to English. “Oh no, Sheewo’s lost his arm.” He looks genuinely distressed. Krolia can’t bite back her laughter this time.

She’s saved from having to explain why she’s laughing at his misery when Shiro reappears. Shiro’s arm stays firmly behind him, perhaps venturing lower than what she would like but she can’t complain if it keeps Keith obedient.

“Time to go.” Shiro helps Keith stand, his left arm pulling Keith up and his right arm staying suspiciously out of sight. The three of hobble out into the warm summer night.

Keith falls asleep in their driverless taxi, drooling on Shiro’s shoulder and clinging to his side like a Zeranian opican. He looks impossibly young in his sleep. The years he spent alone, the war, all of it, falls away and leaves behind a young man barely starting his life. The ring on his left hand shines in the light that filters through the taxi’s windows.

“Sorry for getting him so drunk. I should have guessed Galran spirits would hit him hard,” Krolia says.

Shiro cards deft fingers through Keith's hair. “No need to apologize. I’m glad he got to let go a little. Besides, it’s nice being the sober one for a change. It will be even nicer when I’m hangover-free tomorrow.”

“True, it will be Keith’s turn to suffer.”

Shiro frowns as he absorbs her words. “Oh no, you’re right. He’s going to be such a brat tomorrow. On second thought, I accept your apology.”

Krolia laughs. In truth, the Galra recover quickly from alcohol but she guesses that won’t be the case for Keith—not as far as Shiro knows. Keith won’t let the chance to be doted on by his husband pass by.  _Brat_  is indeed the right word to describe him.

“The promotion will keep him busy,” Krolia says quietly. “The time you have together is precious. Take advantage of it. Given the continued expansion of the Blades, he’ll eventually be able to delegate his responsibilities, but I can’t say when that’ll be exactly—years, maybe. Months, at the very least.” Keith's work will keep them separated for weeks at a time. She wishes that weren’t the case but that’s the life they’ve chosen.

“I know. I appreciate every moment we have together. Trust me when I say that. Over and over I thought I would never see him again. Each time he’s proven me wrong. He’s done so much for me that sometimes I don’t know how I’ve gotten so lucky to have him by my side.”

“He loves you,” Krolia says fiercely, “and you were there for him when he needed it, without expecting anything in return. Never underestimate how much you saved him with your kindness.”

Shiro looks at Keith with endless fondness; Krolia averts her eyes.

Streetlights blur together into something beautiful as the taxi drives through deserted residential streets. “I don’t know if he’s told you about what we saw in the quantum abyss?”

“I know you saw scenes from each other’s pasts and futures,” Shiro says carefully.

“You were a constant in Keith’s memories,” Krolia tells him. “I've seen what you’ve done for him and his love for you isn’t born from luck.” She doesn’t mention the sneak previews of their future she saw while Keith slept. She doesn’t want to ruin the surprise for either of them.

“Anyone would have—”

“—No,” Krolia cuts him off gently, “they wouldn't have. You were the  _only_  one that reached out to him. Everyone else wrote him off.”

“They were all idiots,” Shiro mutters.

“Yes,” Krolia agrees, “they were.”

The taxi stops in front of Keith and Shiro’s modest home. Shiro pokes at Keith, testing his awareness. Keith makes a small, incomprehensible sound and doesn’t open his eyes.

“Do you need help?” she asks.

“No, I’ve got him.” Shiro lifts Keith in his arms. “See you soon, Krolia.”

She closes the taxi door behind them and watches as Shiro carries Keith down their walkway. The porch light comes on, bathing them in a warm glow. A bright blue flash announces the arrival of the wolf. He wags his tail and teleports them inside, saving Shiro the trouble of having to fumble to unlock the door.

Krolia smiles and puts in the address to the fancy apartment she’s been given to stay in as a Coalition representative. It’s not far; she thinks she’ll drop by the Shirogane house in the morning. She needs to make sure Keith doesn’t torture her son-in-law too much with his fake hangover.

**Author's Note:**

> here’s to another year of VLD fic!? haha, I’m still deep in sheith hell sooooooo :)


End file.
